


Soon

by Miraphina Atherton (mew_tsubaki)



Category: NCIS
Genre: Family Feels, Gen, s16 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-01
Updated: 2019-08-01
Packaged: 2020-07-28 23:37:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20072497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mew_tsubaki/pseuds/Miraphina%20Atherton
Summary: She's a bright little girl. Clever—just like her mother.





	Soon

**Author's Note:**

> The NCIS characters belong to Donald P. Bellasario, not to me. In preparation for season 17… ;) Read, review, and enjoy! *Note: This contains major spoilers for season 16, as it's set during season 16.

She's eight years old, and the adults around her dismiss her or don't take her all that seriously.

Tali David–DiNozzo lives a good life in Paris with her abba and her "Nonno D." She can trace the route she walks to school with Abba on most mornings, this winding path filled with sights she loves as they cut through the 4th arrondissement to arrive at the international school where she spends all her time when not at home or at temple. She can sniff out the freshest pastries from Abba's favorite bakery, and she always knows when Nonno is back home from one of his long business trips because one of his suitcases always thuds outside their door since it's stuffed with new dresses or trinkets or scarves for her from wherever he's been.

Tali knows all the familiar sounds and smells of her school, from the offbeat ticking of the clock in her classroom to the faint hint of perfume in her friend Béthanie's lunchbox because Béthanie's mother makes her lunch for her every day. Outside the classroom, at recess, Tali and Béthanie will meet up with their other best friend, Adina, and play and chatter in their made-up language that consists of six other real languages so far.

Tali knows, even without practice, the feeling of eyes on her back.

Her sense of her surroundings fades away for a moment as bumps pop up on the back of her neck, beneath her mass of amber and brown curls. She stops mid-sentence, but Adina doesn't mind and picks up for her, and Béthanie's attention goes to her instead. Tali turns around.

The playground—really, just the grounds outside the school—is safe and full of nothing but students and a few teachers to watch over them. There are no strangers intruding. Beyond that, there are no pairs of eyes zooming in on Tali.

Nevertheless, she doesn't like the itchy feeling of being stared at, and Abba has taught her there are times to be silly and times to be serious—"Play it safe," he says—so Tali scurries over to the closest teacher she can find and tugs on her hand. "Miss Meyer, I think someone's watching us," she confides.

Miss Meyer's eyes widen, and she gives Tali's hand a squeeze as she takes a look around herself. After only a few seconds, she relaxes with a soft smile and tilts her head at Tali. "I don't see anyone, Tali. I'm sure you must've imagined it. Or perhaps it was a bird that scared you?"

Tali frowns. She always thought Miss Meyer looked like the heroines in Abba's old romantic movies—the kind lady who helps anyone in need, the kind lady to save a puppy in a storm, the kind lady who always has a Band-Aid in her pocket for kids' skinned knees.

Now she sees Miss Meyer as just another pretty face, the nice lady you see in family commercials all the time. A good person, but not a heroine.

"…maybe," Tali mumbles, and she pulls her hand away to join her friends again.

The rest of recess is quiet, and the school day resumes and then ends, and Abba picks her up on his way home, and it's just another fall day in Paris.

* * *

"Nonno," she asks as they tuck in on the couch after a too-big Christmas dinner (it's too much when Christmas and Hanukkah occur at the same time, and she tells Abba and Nonno she wants toys instead of food because she can only eat so many strudels and cookies, but they either never listen or always forget), "what's it like, being by yourself on your trips?"

He blinks, and his white eyebrows shoot up into that wide forehead of his. With Abba putting the dishes away, Nonno's got the remote in his hand, and the DVD menu to _It's a Wonderful Life_ loops twice, cued by the music, before he responds. "What's it like to travel alone?"

Tali nods. She snuggles up to him while he thinks a moment longer.

"Well…I miss you and your dad every waking minute," he says with a tiny smile. His eyes are on the TV screen, but his remote hand rests on his knee; he's not paying attention to the DVD right now. "That's what it means to be lonely. But…you get to see a lot of things and do a lot of things."

Not exactly the answer she hoped for. They went to Nice last summer, the three of them; Tali knows you can sightsee and do plenty of activities together with others. So she shakes her head. "No, I mean—are you ever scared to be by yourself?"

He sighs. "…a little. The world's big, and big can be dangerous—uh, when you don't know anything about it," he hurries to add. He squeezes her tight in a one-armed hugged. "You're always safe when you travel with your dad or me, though, kiddo. Promise."

She hugs him back—Nonno smells like his famous snickerdoodles this time of year—and doesn't ask again. There's not even a chance to when Abba drops into the spot on the couch on her other side and scolds his father for not starting the movie yet.

But while "I was waiting for you, Tony" and "We'll be up past one in the morning at this rate, Dad" fly over her head, Tali gets to thinking. She hasn't had that odd sensation of being watched for several weeks, but it's stayed in her mind, and Miss Meyer telling her it was her imagination has left her feeling pretty alone at school, mainly at recess.

So she treasures the holiday break, because Nonno's right about one thing: She's always safe with Abba and Nonno around.

* * *

Spring still seems far off when that itchy feeling returns.

Tali and Abba are out shopping and getting distracted by street vendors when Tali looks up from her and Abba's shoes—his shoes are always shiny and clean, and she's happy that she takes after him in that regard and always looks her best—and spies something in the reflection of the mirror behind pottery vendor.

But she doesn't see eyes. Tali only glimpses the back of someone's head before they disappear into the crowd. And it shouldn't spook her, to see someone dark-haired in the crowd, because France is not a blond-haired, blue-eyed nation but a rainbow palette like many other countries.

…yet it _does_ spook her, to catch sight of dark brown waves with amber streaks. Something inside her head just _clicks_, and she wants to ignore it. She wants to get rid of the panic on her face before Abba sees it and goes into Overprotective Mode (which luckily only happens every few months these days). She wants to agree with Miss Meyer that her imagination has been getting the better of her.

Instead, they grab a table at Abba's favorite bakery and Tali requests, "Tell me again how you and Imah found this spot."

This doesn't surprise Abba, because he's been telling Tali the story for as long as she could understand words and because Tali's been asking for the story for as long as she could ask for it. His light eyes crinkle, and he laughs when he smiles. "Think you'll ever be sick of this story, Tee?"

She shakes her head.

He nods. "Well, Imah and I were…working"—he always pauses there and she'll never understand why he looks a mixture of sad and angry when he says that word (after all, Nonno has told her that her parents were practically superheroes)—"and we wanted to keep the Eiffel Tower in our view as much as possible…" He pauses again here, but it's for effect, and they both turn their heads to eye the monument. "And then Imah's tummy growled—_grruoohh_—and I insisted we stop here to eat."

Tali laughs at the sound effects and how he pats his belly to exaggerate. "And then?" she prompts.

"And then…we ate, we got a call cutting that first visit short, and I snapped the prettiest photo anyone's ever seen." Abba's voice trails off there, but most days he's okay. The days he's not, Tali just reaches across the table with chocolate-sticky fingers and holds his hand. Today her fingers stay wrapped around what's left of her chocolate croissant.

When they get home, the "prettiest photo anyone's ever seen" greets them in the living room, and Tali agrees that Abba really knows how to use a camera. Even in black-and-white, Imah is beautiful. Even in black-and-white…

Tali might be looking more and more like Abba every day, with her high brow and straight chin and "regal nose" (Nonno's words, not hers), but she's seen enough color photos Abba and Nonno and Uncle Tim and Aunt Abby have shared to know that she's got her mother's dark eyes and soft cheeks. And her curls…

Even in black-and-white, Tali knows Imah's warm locks, because Tali has those, too.

For a brief second, the itchy feeling returns but gives way to that spooky feeling. No matter what Abba or Nonno tell her or the rabbis at temple try to explain about Heaven or Hell or anything after life, Tali knows that Imah is gone.

…right?

* * *

Tali is eight years old, and she knows that sometimes adults don't know everything or don't _want_ to know everything. That is how she puts her own doubts to rest so that, as spring draws to a close, she doesn't run away when she next feels eyes on her.

It is a weekday—a Thursday, to be exact, nearly the weekend—when she and Abba leave the supermarket. The library's not far away, and nearby some people play together on a guitar and a small saxophone. The music makes Abba smile, and he tosses money into their instrument cases and thinks aloud that he should teach Tali how to play something. Or at least take her to the opera one of these days.

She's about to ask what "opera" is when she catches those eyes from across the square. But this time she doesn't look away.

The hair.

The mouth.

The eyes—tired, but so familiar.

Tali blinks, and they're gone just like that. But—_no_. They can't be! Those eyes—_that person_ can't be gone just like that! Not after all this time, not after Tali figured it out!

She pulls away from Abba (sometimes he doesn't keep her hand in his nowadays, and thankfully today is one of those) and runs, diving between tourists' bodies and dodging the aggressive strides of locals to aim for where that person had been just a moment ago. Tali arrives only a minute later, swinging her head left and right, but no luck.

Only when she turns does she get to meet her face to face.

Neither of them says anything for a handful of seconds. Then Imah's stern, scanning expression changes, softens, and she looks as if she might cry if she stares any longer. "Tali," she whispers.

Tali's first two years are blurs in her memory, but her name from her mother's lips is more comforting than wrapping up her favorite blanket, and she wants to crash into her arms. But she doesn't. She's being brave, facing this magical moment alone, but she's too scared to move or speak and find out it really is all in her imagination. So she nods.

Imah nods, too, and the wave of emotion that hit her draws back. She bends down so their eyes are level. "I love watching you grow up."

Tali doesn't know how to describe it, but—suddenly she feels filled with light, knowing she's been right this whole time. Imah hasn't been far. Imah has kept watch. A "guardian angel," as Abba would say. She smiles brightly, eyes wide, her chest ready to burst with every little thing she's wanted to tell her mother, ever.

Maybe Imah knows that. She smiles and raises her hand, but she drops it before she can touch Tali's cheek or hair. "You're my girl, all right, sensing me when I didn't mean you to." Her words are soft, as if thinking aloud; Tali wonders if her parents know they have this in common. "But, Tali—"

She snaps her attention back to Imah's face, all ears.

"I will not have to only watch you soon. We will be a family, a proper family, soon. I promise."

Those words—"I promise"—fill Tali with hope. Sure, her friends Béthanie and Adina have said them and then broken their word a minute later, but promises from Abba and Nonno are sure as sunshine, and Tali just knows Imah's are just as good. She may be a kid, and adults definitely aren't perfect, but she's got good luck, the kind where the adults who matter in her life keep their promises.

"Soon," Imah repeats.

It takes Tali a second to realize those few urgent syllables are in Hebrew, which catches a few odd glances from passersby. If anyone stops to interrupt, then this meeting surely will be over…or worse, Abba will realize finally that Tali's not with him.

"Tali," Imah continues in her native tongue, "we will all be together soon, but there is something I must do first. Please—do not tell your father. About me or anything I've said. Yes?"

Tali nods again, not blinking so she can capture Imah's image before her and make it permanent in her brain. But…then she does blink, and Imah's gone as if she'd never been here at all.

"_Tali_!"

She jumps, and Abba barrels through a newlywed couple taking selfies as if he's playing American football. He nearly crashes into her, too, but he puts his hands on her arms partly to stop and partly to crush her to his chest. Knowing the heart attack she could've given him, she hugs him back just as tight.

"Tali, you—" Abba catches his breath and picks her up in his arms as if she's still three. He buries his nose in her hair, and she hates that his voice sounds wet. "Tee, you scared the crap outta me. Please, _please_, _please_ don't do that again! What could make you run off like that?"

"I…saw a…cute dog looking for food," she lies (and wonders if Imah has ever had to lie). "I thought I could offer him something from the grocery bags."

Abba turns, still with Tali bundled up in his arms and despite carrying three bags (Tali takes the fourth like a good girl), and sighs. "Tee, if you want a pet, we can get you a fish. I can keep fish alive. I—" He stops short, and Tali can _feel_ him grow cold as he rasps, "…Zee?"

Tali turns, hoping Imah changed her mind and stayed. But wherever Abba looks, Tali doesn't see her. "Abba?"

The fight has gone out of him, just like that. He puts her down though remembers to grip her hand in his, and they turn to head home. Though shaken, Abba manages a weird grin and tries to shrug it off. "It's nothing, Tali. I, uh…" He takes a breath, and he narrows his eyes as he stares ahead at nothing. "…thought I saw a ghost," he finishes.

Her heart lurches, hearing that. But her hope keeps her quiet.

One day, she can tell him that he didn't see a ghost.

One day.

_Soon_.

**Author's Note:**

> Well! :] I've had this idea kinda vaguely in my head for a couple months, and, though the first scene was a struggle, I enjoyed this the more I wrote it. I am very curious to see an older Tali (if we do in the show), because I rly want to know in what ways she's similar to them. I also rly want this family to have the happy ending they deserve. ;w; That's partly why Senior lives with them in this headcanon, and only steps out on occasion ("Nonno" is Italian for "Grandpa," in case anyone doesn't know). Tony and Senior are doing a good job of trying to give Tali a relatively normal life. I like the idea of Tali being sharp, too. =w= Not that Tony isn't, but you can't compare to Ziva's sixth sense, *lol*. AHHHHH I just want all the Tiva details s17 owes us. c:
> 
> Thanks for reading, and please review! Check out my other NCIS fics if you liked this.
> 
> -mew-tsubaki =w=


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